


The Diamond

by toushindai (WallofIllusion)



Series: Intermissions [5]
Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Blow Jobs, Character Study, F/M, Light Angst, Light Bondage, M/M, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Nascent control kink, Post-Clear, This is not a spite fic! it was canon-compliant when I wrote it, Threesome - F/M/M, Welcome to Hell Spoilers, however a minor spite edit has been applied., late-game spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22074526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WallofIllusion/pseuds/toushindai
Summary: Zagreus is a handful; Thanatos and Megaeradidknow that, going into all of this. But when he insinuates that'd like a threesome, they have to renegotiate just how to handle him. This is going to be awkward.
Relationships: Megaera & Thanatos (Hades Video Game), Megaera/Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game), Megaera/Zagreus (Hades Video Game), Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Series: Intermissions [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657159
Comments: 22
Kudos: 295





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I want to forewarn you all that this is (taking the epilogue into account) about 1/3 porn to 2/3 uncomfortable conversation. And even less porn if you don't find bondage to be inherently erotic. 
> 
> Honestly I am delighted that Than and Meg clearly talked everything out before Zag made either of his moves--that shit's adorable--but I like to think that nothing in life is _quite_ that uncomplicated.

“Than, could you— _hghk_!”

“Zagreus, be careful!” Thanatos snaps, and tags the bomber attacking the prince with death. It expires a moment later, and Zagreus nimbly dodges its parting gift.

“I _am_ being careful,” he insists, bounding over a stream of magma in pursuit of one of the bloodless. “I just wanted to say, Than, don’t poof off when we’re done here, could you? There’s something I want to _ask_ —” And then he’s fighting again, muscles rippling under a sheen of sweat as he swings the Twin Fists at the skeletons swarming him. There’s an efficiency to him, and a brutal, undeniable _presence_. Thanatos doesn’t realize he’s staring until Zag’s kill count is too high to match. As the battlefield falls silent, he hands over the centaur heart and hovers over the rocky Asphodel ground with awkward patience.

“What did you want to ask, Zag? I don’t have much time.”

“Oh. Well.” He’s tongue-tied suddenly, his gaze scanning the fiery hellscape that surrounds them. “If you don’t have the time, maybe it isn’t a good idea. I was just thinking, I went through Meg to get here this time, so she’ll be at home right now, and I’m not feeling _terribly_ confident about these boons, so if you’ve got the time to stop in later I thought we might spend some time together. All three of us.”

“Instead of you sneaking up and trying to eavesdrop, you mean?”

“Yes,” Zag answers, the corner of his mouth lifting for a moment in self-mockery. But then his face turns a faint pink and he looks aside again. “I mean, actually, that isn’t what I—I’m not sure you quite understand what I’m suggesting, Than.”

It’s a two- or three-step process in Thanatos’s mind, hitting on what Zag is actually trying to say. Part of him makes the logical leap at once, but he discards the conclusion as absurd, unthinkable. Until he considers Zagreus’s attitude, and the buzzing energy coming off him, and the secret hopeful light in his eyes. Then Thanatos returns to his initial thought, and it’s not just Asphodel’s atmosphere that makes heat creep up his face.

“You don’t mean for conversation, do you.”

“No,” Zagreus admits, “no, I don’t.” He watches Thanatos’s face, and doesn’t quite hide a wince. “If you think it’s a bad idea, just forget about it—”

Thanatos heaves a sigh. “Even if I forget about it, I’m going to owe Megaera a diamond,” he says, aggrieved.

Zagreus’s brow furrows. “Why would you owe Meg a—hang on, did the two of you _bet_ on whether I’d want a threesome?”

“No,” Thanatos snaps, because it wasn’t like that. Or, it wasn’t exactly like that. Or—no, actually, that was exactly what they’d done, in the end. The bet, specifically, had been at Megaera’s insistence, because Thanatos had tried to protest that Zagreus wouldn’t… do exactly what he’d just done. Foolish, really. She knows him better, if only on this subject. Thanatos scowls and looks away. “I mean—yes, all right, we did. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go pay up and then get back to work.”

Zagreus’s “Than, wait—” rings in his ears as he shifts away.

*

He doesn’t, in fact, go straight to the House. No, he goes to the surface first, picks up a few mortals, brings them where they need to be. But then there’s a lull, long before he’s gotten the matter off his mind, and he can’t just sit around waiting for the Fates’ instructions to direct him. He goes to the House, to the lounge.

Megaera looks up at the sound of his entrance with a smile that’s almost welcoming. They’ve always had a good professional relationship, but there’s a new dimension to it now: a kind of understanding that approaches real affinity. Friendship. And at its core, Zagreus, and all the myriad emotions he wrings out of both of them.

Now, though, Thanatos doesn’t smile back. Face pinched, he digs a diamond out of his pocket and lays it on the table without a word. Megaera looks at it for a moment, then rolls her eyes to the ceiling.

“Blood and darkness, Zag,” she mutters, exasperation in her voice. Although that doesn’t stop her from claiming her prize. She nods towards the seat next to her. “Join me, Than. I’m guessing you could use a drink.”

He sits with a sigh, and Megaera nods to the bartender to summon up a goblet of wine for him. As he takes a grim sip, she asks, “So what are you thinking?”

“I don’t want to do it, if that’s what you mean.”

“You may have noticed, that hasn’t kept Zagreus from asking.”

“So what? He can ask. We don’t just have to fall in line.”

That seems to amuse Megaera. “Absolutely not. If you fell in line with every random thought that passed through Zag’s head you’d never get a moment’s rest.”

Thanatos turns his attention to his wine, scowling. Megaera does this sometimes, speaks like she knows everything about Zagreus and is generously offering him insight. It grates—it’s not like Thanatos doesn’t know Zag, too—but it’s true that she has a perspective he lacks just yet, and he feels like he needs to learn as quickly as possible if he wants things to work out. Which he does. More than anything he can think of.

“I just—” he starts, and then stops. Megaera waits, watching him over her own wine. He looks away. “I get that he wants both of us. That’s fine with me. But for him to want us both at _once_ feels—”

“Greedy?” Megaera proposes, sardonic still.

“It feels like I’m not enough.”

It’s harder to say than it should be, his throat tight around the words. But Megaera seems to take them seriously. Her sarcastic smirk falls away, and she sits back and considers him. “Than,” she says, “there’s nothing in the world that could be _enough_ for Zagreus. You can’t take that personally.”

“How else am I supposed to take it?” he demands. “You don’t know how he talks while we’re—” But he stops there, unwilling to finish the thought aloud.

Megaera picks up his meaning, anyway. “‘Together’?” she suggests euphemistically. She lifts her wineglass and looks casually into it. “I could probably guess,” she says, “given what _I_ hear from him. _‘Meg, the way you kiss me is nothing like Than, with Than it’s like this enormous relief, like finding answers. It’s so soft.’_ ”

The way she imitates his voice is a bit exaggerated, a bit unkind. As Thanatos stares back, his face flushed, she sneers, “I didn’t ask, just to clarify. He just blurts it out like I should it find as fascinating as he does.”

Thanatos exhales, long and exasperated. He drags his fingers through his hair. “I can believe that,” he says, “because with me it’s always, _‘you don’t have to be like Meg, Than, I’m not asking for that, but you can be a_ little _rougher, I’m not going to break.’_ ”

“That sounds right,” Megaera agrees. Her posture is so carefully casual that it’s circled right around to being stiff, and her eyes are on her wine again. “Here’s the thing. Zagreus is _made_ of want, Than. Entirely. And if you give him even a little of what he’s after, he cracks open and oozes the rest all over you, like an egg. There’s no getting it under control. It’s just something you have to get used to if you want to be with him.”

Thanatos watches her face. “…I suppose you know that from the first time.”

“You have _no_ idea.” She chases that thought down with a sizeable gulp of wine. “As for this latest… _idea_ of his. I’m not sure that telling him no is going to work.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that if we turn him down, he’s just going to keep looking for a way that we _will_ agree to his ridiculous fantasy. This isn’t the sort of thing he just gives up on.”

He narrows his eyes, an uncomfortable feeling starting in the pit of his stomach. “So… what do you propose we do?”

“We show him what a terrible idea it is,” Megaera says, face grim. “Explicitly.”

“You mean by going along with it.”

“It’s the only thing that’s going to get it through his head.”

“Megaera, I’m not interested in you at all,” Thanatos protests.

“You don’t have to be. He’s going to want us both paying attention to _him_. That’s all this is, Than. Don’t worry, I’m not about to start mooning over you, either.”

Thanatos falls silent, unconvinced and unimpressed by Megaera’s strategy. She sees the conflict in his face and rolls her eyes. “Look, you can do whatever you want. Tell him to come to my room when he gets back, or come along with him. I don’t care either way. But if you’re as eager as I am to get this idea out of his head, I’ve told you how to do it.”

“And you think that’s a better plan than telling him the truth?” Thanatos asks.

“I think it’s more effective, yes.”

“I think nothing stops Zagreus once he’s made up his mind,” Thanatos counters, thinking of the way he tore up the Underworld at its roots only to remake it better.

But Megaera only treats that as support for her own position. “You’re right,” she agrees, “which is why we need to unmake it for him.” She stands and stretches her wing. “Up to you, Than. I’ll see you later.”

“See you later,” he says, and watches her go. He finishes his wine in silence and then retreats to his spot at the railing overlooking the Styx to wait for Zagreus’s return.

*

It’s a while, though, and Lord Hades leaves before Zag gets back. Then, a half-hour later, Zag climbs out of the Styx. He pauses for a moment to shake blood out of his tunic and hair, aggravated; then he heads, first, to the lounge.

A few minutes later he comes to the hall where Thanatos waits. “Oh, good, you’re here,” he says. “Meg left already, I was worried you might have done the same. Listen, Than—”

“She hasn’t left,” Thanatos interrupts him before he can babble on. “Said to tell you she’d be in her room.”

That gets a reaction; Zagreus’s eyebrows shoot up and Thanatos thinks he sees a faint blush in his cheeks. “Oh,” he says, “she must have… plans, then. Did you happen to mention my… idea… to her?”

Thanatos sighs. “I told you I owed her a diamond, didn’t I?”

“Right…. So, if she’s waiting for me in her room, I take it she was… not pleased?”

Thanatos doesn’t understand why that’s the conclusion Zagreus reaches, but on second thought, he doesn’t want to know. “I wouldn’t say that’s the impression I got,” he says. “She said I’m welcome to come along.”

Zagreus blushes deeper, and his brow furrows as he tries to guess at the intricacies of the conversation that had transpired while he was still out. Mercifully, though, he doesn’t ask any further questions about it. Instead he only looks hesitantly at Thanatos. “Are you… interested, then? In doing something together, all three of us?”

Thanatos doesn’t know. He still hasn’t made up his mind. He’s skeptical of Megaera’s plan, but neither does he much like, frankly, the thought of sending Zagreus to _her_ bed when he was technically the one that Zagreus had propositioned first. It’s not jealousy, or anything like that; just a sense of missed opportunity. And sometimes he wonders—when he sees Zag fight so determinedly out there, when he watches Zagreus identify what he wants and reach out and _demand_ it—if their relationship will really bear the weight of too many opportunities allowed to pass by.

Zagreus sees his hesitation. “Than, look,” he says. “It’s really all the same to me. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. All right?” And then he steps forward and slides one hand around the back of Thanatos’s neck, suggesting. Thanatos lets him pull him in, and for a moment indulges in the heat of Zagreus’s lips and his touch and the slow, insistent patience of the kiss. _Soft_ , Megaera had said Zagreus called this, _like finding answers_. Thanatos thinks he knows what Zagreus means by all of that. He doesn’t want to lose this, no matter what it takes.

“Fine,” he mutters when Zagreus pulls back. “You know what? Fine. I’ll give it a try.”

“Really?”

The sudden ebullience in Zagreus’s manner is a sharp contrast to the delicacy of a moment before, and Thanatos sees something else, a hidden eagerness in his eyes that he’s beginning to recognize. Zag wants this. He _really_ wants it. So before he can get too puppy dog–like, Thanatos answers with the same dry tone as ever. “Yes, really,” he says, and then: “I’ll see you there.”

And he shifts out of the main hall, to the door of Megaera’s chambers instead. He knocks once. She looks at him, snorts, and lets him in.

“I take it he’s on his way, then?”

He grits his teeth, wondering what he’s gotten himself into. “You’d better be right about all of this.”

Zagreus joins them a few minutes later, and first looks to Thanatos with mock injury on his face.

“We could have walked together, you know,” he points out.

Thanatos shrugs. “No telling when your father’s getting back.” Things may be somewhat repaired between the Lord of the Underworld and his son, but not entirely, and anyway it’s uncomfortable to parade past Lord Hades on his way to Zagreus’s chambers.

Whether Zagreus considers it uncomfortable or not is unclear. He only makes a face as he shows himself into Megaera’s room. “That is the last mention of my father I want to hear for now,” he says.

“Deal,” Megaera answers crisply. “Now, Zagreus, did you bring us anything to drink?”

“I did!” he says, chipper in a way that seems disparate to the cool edge to Megaera’s voice, or indeed to what he had to do to earn the bottle of ambrosia he pulls from the folds of his overtunic. “Freshly won from King Theseus himself.”

Megaera brings out three cups, and Zagreus pours. She takes a seat at her vanity table. Zagreus settles brazenly on her bed, leaning back on one hand. Thanatos is tempted to stand—which is to say that he’s not sure where he’s supposed to sit—until Zagreus reaches out for him.

“Here, there’s enough room for two.”

It’s flirtatious, and the light in his eyes suggests that he knows it. But then again, that _is_ the purpose of this whole endeavor, isn’t it?

Maybe the ambrosia will help.

Megaera speaks as Thanatos settles onto the edge of her bed. “Did you just win this?”

“I did, Macedonian and all. Only to fall to Father again.” There’s a dry note to his voice that fails to conceal his frustration. “I can’t believe that old man was still holding out all those times before…”

Thanatos narrows his eyes, trying to find words of comfort, but Megaera is faster. Arching an eyebrow, she says, “You can turn off Extreme Measures at any time, you know.”

“No. I have to do this.”

“You don’t _have_ to,” Thanatos sighs. What he means is that Zagreus has already done so much for the Underworld, and won his father’s respect in the process. He shouldn’t be pushing himself so hard, expanding the stipulations of the Pact of Punishment until Thanatos finds him facing thirty or forty Exalted at a time, let alone try to single-handedly vanquish one of the gods who slew the Titans.

But their arguments over Zagreus’s attempts to leave are still too fresh, and Zagreus looks his way with a combination of defensiveness and concern in his eyes. “You wouldn’t understand, Than,” he says guardedly.

“I just meant…” But he doesn’t know how to phrase it, so with a toss of his hair he puts the thought aside for now. “Never mind. In any case, it’s all right that you didn’t make it out this time. Or were you going to make Megaera and me wait, after arranging all of this?”

“Oh.” Zagreus lowers his cup so quickly that the liquid sloshes inside it. “I… did not think about that.”

Thanatos heaves a sigh of frustration, and at the same time Megaera scoffs and rolls her eyes. Their matched reactions seem, perversely, to amuse Zagreus. “So it all worked out this time!” he says. But the brightness in his voice is a little forced, his eyes still a little shifty. Megaera looks down into her cup, deliberately silent, and something unspoken and awkward hangs between Thanatos and Zagreus. To chase it away, Thanatos reaches for the ambrosia and tops up Zagreus’s cup.

“Oh… Thank you,” the prince says, and the air eases a bit.

As Zagreus lifts the cup again, he leans Thanatos’s way, settling gingerly against him, and the breath goes out of Thanatos for a moment. He’s not used to this yet, the casual physical contact, the near-unbearable heat of Zagreus’s body. He never even got used to _wanting_ it before it was suddenly his, and the ease with which Zagreus reaches out still leaves him reeling.

Zagreus sees some minute tension in Thanatos’s face, something he’d meant to stifle, and leans away again. “Sorry,” he murmurs, embarrassment and distress in his voice, and Thanatos scowls.

“It’s fine. That was fine, Zagreus.”

“Oh!” Relief spreads across his face like dawn. “Good.” He leans once more on Thanatos, this time more boldly, tucking himself into the crook of his arm. Thanatos shifts his goblet to his other hand so that he can, loosely, embrace Zag’s shoulder. He has this. It’s real.

Megaera tips her head back then to finish off her first cup of ambrosia. She reaches for the bottle. “More, Than?” He hasn’t made enough of a dent in his own drink to accept a refill so he waves her off. “Suit yourself. Mind if I finish it, then?”

Neither Thanatos nor Zagreus minds. She refills her own cup and places the empty bottle on her vanity. The three of them drink in silence for a moment.

“Meg,” Zagreus tries, “I was curious, is there some particular reason you wanted to meet us _here_ , rather than in my—”

“Finish your drink, Zagreus,” Megaera orders.

“All right.”

He’s amused again at Megaera’s bluntness, and glancing over Thanatos recognizes the focus in his eyes. Belatedly, he realizes he’s watching the two of them flirt. He turns his attention back to his own drink, but even once he’s drained it, none of this seems like a particularly good idea. He should have let Megaera give him a little more.

Zagreus is the last one to empty his cup. Leaning still against Thanatos, he chases the lees around the bottom of the cup with a lazy twist of his wrist. “I finished my drink, Meg,” he says, with an air of eagerness and demand to it. “Going to answer my question now?”

She stands, retrieves all three cups, and places them out of the way on her desk. Then, wordlessly, she goes to her trunk and takes out a few objects: some rope, a hook on the end of a chain like the ones in Tartarus, and a wooden bar with padded shackles on each end. Moving with careless confidence, she comes back to the bed and lets Zagreus have a good look at the items.

“All my best tools are here,” she says with a thin smirk.

“So they are,” Zagreus agrees. Is Thanatos imagining it, or has his heart rate picked up? “I don’t see anything for hitting me with.”

Megaera rolls her eyes and then looks at Thanatos. With faux pleasantry, she asks, “Do you want to see Zag beaten, Than?”

“ _No_.”

The word shoots out of him, all instinct and a choking twist of dread in his chest. Megaera sniffs. “See,” she says, to Zagreus.

“..Right,” Zagreus says again, pausing just a bit too long this time. “Of course.”

Thanatos’s eyes flit to Zagreus’s face, but the prince of hell isn’t looking at him as he stands casually from the bed. “What’s the plan, then?”

Megaera shifts her weight from one leg to the other, eyes narrowed in a smirk. “You shut up and stop asking so many questions. I tie you up. Thanatos and I do whatever we want with you.”

“I like that plan.” Now he does look Thanatos’s way. “What about you, Than? Does that sound all right?”

It’s a considerate question, but he’s got that air to him again like a dog sitting at its master’s table, doing its best to pretend it doesn’t want a treat. He’s about as convincing, too. Thanatos thinks he’s probably an inch away from throwing himself at Megaera’s feet like the wretches she tortures, all with that bright-focused look in his eyes. No matter what Thanatos wants here. And Megaera told him about this ahead of time, anyway. So he just sends Zagreus an impassive stare.

“Aren’t you supposed to stop asking stupid questions?”

It’s rude, cutting, and Thanatos wishes as soon as he says it that he could take it back—but he isn’t expecting the way it makes Zag’s eyes light up with excitement. He thinks Thanatos is playing along. “I’ll just stay quiet and let you two work, then, shall I?”

Thanatos doesn’t know how to answer that. But Megaera does. She takes Zag by the chin and looks into his eyes. “Take off your clothes,” she orders, and then lets go of him.

Zagreus obeys without a moment’s hesitation, undressing himself before the two of them. Thanatos doesn’t know where to look. This isn’t how it goes, usually, when he and Zag are alone. Usually they talk first, and cuddle, and kiss. Even when Thanatos feels work pull at him, constraining their encounters into slivers of stolen time, it has felt too abrupt and inappropriate to suggest that they get right to it. But here is Zagreus now: naked, ready. He steals a glance Thanatos’s way as he presents his wrists to Megaera, and Thanatos can tell that he is pleased to be seen like this. 

Megaera doesn’t go straight for his wrists, though. Instead she kneels first, and fastens Zagreus’s ankles into the restraints at the end of the wooden bar, spreading them two feet apart. Then she turns her back to him and, with an easy confidence, tosses the hook end of her long chain up and over a pulley hanging from her ceiling. (Why does she need a pulley in her own—but Thanatos doesn’t actually want the answer to that question.) It loops perfectly over the track in the wheel and lands back in her hand. Zagreus watches the whole process, eyes intent.

“Going to suspend me, Meg?” 

“You think I’d put you in a spreader if I were going to suspend you?” She sends him a look of withering scorn. “Stop asking questions.”

Rather than responding, he glances slyly Thanatos’s way. But when their eyes meet, Zagreus’s smug expression slips a notch. “Thanatos—”

“No questions, Zagreus,” Thanatos says.

“…Right.”

He silences himself again as Megaera does take his wrists to wrap them in rope, and Thanatos carefully—more carefully than before—makes his expression blank. Is he playing along? Or does he just want Zagreus to stop complicating things? If there is a furrow between his brows, it is only one of concentration and consideration, and Zagreus should know him well enough to recognize that. He’s just trying to understand this. 

By the time Megaera buries the end of the hook into the ropes wrapped around Zagreus’s forearms and pulls the other end of the chain until his arms are held above his head, there’s a light dusting of red across Zagreus’s chest and his cock is beginning to stand. Thanatos can see his muscles quivering to maintain his balance. Megaera seems satisfied, but Zagreus clears his throat.

“You can pull that a little higher,” he offers.

Megaera looks him up and down, then scoffs. “Liar,” she says, voice barbed. “I told you, I’m not suspending you.”

“Is it really a suspension if my toes still reach the ground?”

For a moment, no response from Megaera. She knots the chain around a hook jutting out from the wall. Then, with two quick strides, she returns to Zagreus and grasps his hair at the crown of his head from behind him. He’s forced to crane his neck and bare his throat.

“It’s going to be _much_ harder to not hit you than I anticipated,” she hisses.

Thanatos’s stomach turns over, and a protest forms on his lips; but one look at Zagreus silences it. The prince’s eyes are half-lidded, and there’s a smile on his face. “Don’t hold back on my account,” he says, and the smile gets toothier.

“I’m holding back on Than’s account, you idiot.” Zagreus’s gaze slides over to Thanatos, but Megaera keeps speaking. “Though, by all means keep up your misbehavior. There’s always next time.”

Zagreus’s eyes go back to Meg. “Not exactly persuasive as a threat,” he murmurs, still smiling. 

Thanatos watches the two of them, his eyes traveling down from the cruel grasp Megaera has on Zag’s hair, down past the nervous-eager curl of his mouth, the uncomfortable—it must be uncomfortable—angle of his neck, the shape of his body revealed. And behind him, Megaera standing careless and proud. How many times have they done this together, half-playing and half-serious, Zagreus wanting and afraid of what he’ll get in equal measure? Thanatos can’t imagine where it goes from here, and he doesn’t want to. Some quiet, intense part of him wants to take Zag away from Megaera entirely. Protect him. But it’s as unnecessary here as it is out there. Zag always thinks he knows what he’s getting himself into.

For now, the prince’s eyes are on Thanatos again. “Do I make a nice sight?” he asks, and pulls his shoulders against the rope so that his spine curves at an S-angle. Thanatos flushes, unavoidably aware that Zag is still half-hard.

“Do you ever stop asking questions?” he demands, voice tight.

Zagreus gives a chuckle, but before he can speak, Megaera answers for him: “Never.”

“I’m surprised you don’t gag him.”

It’s an honest thought; he’s been wondering about it since Megaera first took out her tools. But she and Zagreus both seem to freeze suddenly. Zagreus looks at her and then away. She releases his hair at last.

“He doesn’t like that,” she says, her voice final. 

“…Oh.” 

Now Thanatos flushes deeper, embarrassed he brought it up, embarrassed the thought crossed his mind at all. Should he have known this? Could he have predicted that Zagreus, so endlessly chatty, would resist being silenced? 

Zagreus’s eyes search his face. “Don’t worry about it, Than,” he says, because it’s apparently that obvious that he’s worried.

“And there’s no need to feel excluded.” Megaera sends a narrow glance towards Zagreus. “We found it out the hard way.”

Zagreus’s eyes slip shut for a moment and he sighs. “I was a real ass about that,” he admits.

“You were,” Megaera agrees. “So was I. It wasn’t our best moment.”

“No, indeed.”

Zagreus’s eyes are still closed, and his body sags just slightly in its bondage. He wants comfort, Thanatos recognizes again with a twist in his stomach. And of course he’ll have it from Megaera. But she meets Thanatos’s eyes then, silently, and presses the forefinger of one hand to her lips. With the other hand, she crooks one finger: inviting him forward. Inviting him to be a part of this. And he wants to be, doesn’t he? He drifts forward and then lets his feet touch the ground, as quietly as possible, before he reaches one hand around the back of Zagreus’s neck.

A shock seems to go through Zagreus and his eyes fly open. “ _Than_ ,” he gasps, but Thanatos doesn’t give him time for more than that before bringing their lips together. Zagreus moans softly in approval, and kisses back. It’s a bit strange—usually Zag is quick to hold Thanatos when they kiss—but with his arms immobilized above him, Thanatos is free to control the pace of the kiss himself. It’s his turn to insist, to savor the heat of Zagreus’s skin and the smell of ash and iron that hangs around him eternally. To hold him by the neck and communicate silently that he will have this much from him, no more or less. Zag takes to it much more easily than Thanatos ever would have guessed. He follows Thanatos’s pace, only giving little whining moans in response.

When Thanatos breaks the kiss at last, he feels his own heart racing, and Zagreus is panting. Wonder and eagerness combine in Zag’s eyes. “What do you want, Than?” he breathes, an offer and a greedy provocation and an absurdity all at once. This hasn’t been about what Thanatos wants so far. But maybe it can be. He trails a hand up one of Zagreus’s bound arms, considering, and then trails it back down, over the muscles of his chest and abdomen. No more than that, although he can see that Zag would very much like him to go further. His breath escapes him in a short, needy wheeze.

Thanatos looks him up and down. “You really like this, don’t you? This whole…” He trails off.

“Being bound?” Zagreus finishes for him. Again he strains his arms against the rope as if reminding himself that it will hold. A loose, unconscious smile pulls at his lips. “I do.”

“ _Why_?”

Thanatos has been restrained before, quite against his will. Nothing about _that_ experience—the humiliation and powerlessness and work undone clamoring at the back of his head—matches Zagreus’s reaction now. He’s different from how he usually is, all arousal and soft willingness, and the way he leans into it rather than struggling is inexplicable.

Zag’s answer clarifies nothing. “It’s… nice?” he says, sounding unconvinced by his own words. “It feels safe, like—like I’m secure. It’s calming.”

Thanatos wrinkles his nose. “You like being… held in place, then?”

Zagreus exhales heavily, a dreamy light in his eyes. “Yes.”

“You like not being able to move.” Thanatos’s hand wanders down Zagreus’s side, tracing the crook of his iliac crest. Zagreus moans softly. “Not being able to… escape.”

“Mmmn…” His eyes have slipped closed again, so he doesn’t see the slow dawn of understanding on Thanatos’s face. And something more than that, too. It’s not just Zagreus’s appreciation for this that Thanatos has suddenly grasped. He draws a faint line up the center of Zag’s torso, up the side of his neck, and all Zag can do about it is shiver at the touch. In this moment, he is immobilized; his selfishness is still present, still untamed, but incapacitated. 

Thanatos’s focus shifts for just a moment and he sees Megaera watching the two of them. She raises one eyebrow as their eyes meet; Zagreus may have missed the weight of Thanatos’s last comment, but she did not. Flushing slightly, Thanatos makes a pointed decision to ignore her. He turns his attention back to Zag, pulls him into another kiss. Zagreus moans and arches into him, arms straining against the restraints with the desire to hold him, but he can’t. It’s up to Thanatos to make the decisions here.

When he breaks the kiss, Zagreus’s head rolls loosely on his neck and he’s breathing heavily. “Than,” he says, “please…”

He’s fully hard now, and Thanatos can see his cock twitch as his thighs tense powerlessly. He can want, but that’s all he can do right now. And he knows it. His eyes are locked into Thanatos’s, waiting for some kind of answer—anything—to his desire.

He’s forgotten, it seems, that Megaera is still here. So when she steps up behind him and slides a hand between his legs, tracing the underside of his cock with one finger, his whole body convulses and he shouts with surprise. She laughs at him. 

“Meg,” he pants, trying to catch his breath as he looks over his shoulder at her. Then he looks at Thanatos again, eyes wide with wonder. “And Than…”

Thanatos quirks an eyebrow at him. “Did you just remember that we’re both here?”

“I’m…” Zagreus flushes, mouth shaped in a nervous, embarrassed smile. “…not really at my best and most capable right now, I have to admit.”

“Those are two different things,” Megaera says, her smirk as obvious in her voice as it is on her face. She touches him again, and he whimpers. “I’m guessing you want some help with this.”

Zagreus produces an inarticulate moan in lieu of an answer, his abdomen shivering as Megaera strokes him. His eyes are half-closed, his mouth half-open. Thanatos realizes suddenly that he, too, is hard.

“Than?” Megaera says, stilling her hand and looking his way. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Zagreus sucks in a hissing breath and looks at Thanatos as well, his gaze urgent. Thanatos feels a heat creep over his entire body. Of course he wants to touch Zagreus. The beating of his pulse in his veins urges him towards Zag, it always seems to, and this time the thought of Zagreus being helpless to do anything but receive is—it’s novel, at least. And something beyond novel as well. 

So. Yes. He very much wants to _do the honors_. If only it weren’t for—

Megaera reads his hesitation on him and snorts. “I can look the other way if that would make it easier.”

There’s a hint of absurdity in her voice, and the situation _is_ absurd, but Thanatos thinks she might be laughing at him. He can still feel the urgency in Zag’s gaze, though. So he looks at Megaera, jaw tight. “It would, actually.”

“Then, fine.” 

She steps away from Zagreus. Zagreus jerks as he is suddenly left untouched, and then his gaze comes back to Thanatos once more. “I’m ready, Than,” he says, with a quiver in his voice.

Thanatos clicks his tongue. “Obviously.”

A glance at Megaera confirms that she’s looking away as promised; she’s gone to her vanity table, and is studiously rearranging her cosmetics, her back turned on Thanatos. So he takes a step closer to Zagreus, creeping a hand up his bare back and _feeling_ Zagreus’s throaty exhale. He can’t seem to make up his mind whether to tense with need or to melt into Thanatos’s touch, and his muscles ripple under his skin. Thanatos’s cock twitches, still stifled within his leggings. Part of him wishes that Zagreus were unbound so that he could—and certainly _would_ —reach for him. Instead he slides a hand down his own front, giving a little shudder of pleasure as he finds what he’s looking for. Zagreus watches the whole movement, eyes wide. When the back of Thanatos’s hand brushes against _his_ cock, almost accidental, he whines softly.

“What do you want, Zag?” Thanatos murmurs.

“Anything,” Zagreus breathes in answer. He’s trying to grind forward, trying to press their bodies together. “Than—ah—please, I—”

Thanatos turns his wrist and strokes Zagreus once instead, and Zagreus lets out a choked _hrrrf_ , his body tensing again. But this—this isn’t quite what Thanatos wants. He wants Zagreus. He wants to feel him. Shaking just a little, he pulls down his leggings just enough to free his cock and then takes both of them in hand at once, his own shoulders jerking as heat floods outwards from where Zag’s body meets his. Zagreus whines again, and it changes into a moan as Thanatos takes him by the neck with his other hand and kisses him. His body temperature builds and builds, and he keeps making muffled, hungry noises, and it’s not until Thanatos himself lets out a soft whimper that he remembers that Megaera can definitely hear all of this. 

He yanks backwards, quick enough to startle Zag. But Megaera isn’t looking; she’s cataloging her bottles of nail polish, as if they’re the most interesting thing imaginable. Then Thanatos looks back at Zagreus, and— _oh_. The prince of hell is flushed, leaning forward just slightly, lips parted and eyes burning.

“Than?” he says, breathless and yearning and irresistible. And before he can ask if something’s wrong Thanatos pulls him in again and shuts his eyes and tries to block out every thought except the ones leading him to Zagreus. His lips trace a line down Zagreus’s throat—Zag tilts his head back for him—and then he laps slowly at his clavicle. He’s as warm as a stone in the sun. Tastes like salt and iron. 

“Zagreus,” Thanatos murmurs, cupping his hand around the base of Zagreus’s cock once more, “would you like me to…”

But that’s a stupid question. Zagreus wants _anything_. Thanatos doesn’t even need to be told that, now. So what matters is what Thanatos wants, and what Thanatos wants is—

—is the choked _oh_ Zagreus lets out and the way his legs _squirm_ when Thanatos lowers himself to one knee. “Than, please,” he says in a rush, and Thanatos sends a brief, annoyed glance upwards—he doesn’t need further encouragement, obviously he’s already doing this—before leaning in and curling his tongue around the head of Zag’s cock.

“Oh _gods_ ,” Zagreus breathes, his legs quivering. He likes this, Thanatos knows. The feeling of Thanatos’s mouth on him, and the sight. He’s told him so, when Thanatos has doubted his own instincts and hesitated. Usually he puts a hand in Thanatos’s hair, combing through his bangs with a gentle, restrained awe until he’s too far gone to be gentle anymore, and then he clamps his hands over his mouth to keep quiet. He doesn’t have that option this time. His arms are still tied above him and Thanatos has one hand on Zag’s thigh to keep his wriggling under control and the other draped loosely over his own cock though he doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to hold out. Zagreus has already given up on dignity. He groans, needy and desperate, as Thanatos works on him (and Megaera can _still_ hear all of this and could turn and look at any time but _don’t think about that_ ), and his eagerness only pulls Thanatos in deeper—

Zagreus jerks his hips back suddenly. “Than, wait.”

“What?” Thanatos looks up, a little cross-eyed. It’s disorienting to be interrupted in the middle of… that, and he’s breathing more heavily than normal.

Zagreus is too, and he looks dazed. “I don’t want to come yet,” he says, hoarse. “Could you—just—”

He’s interrupted by a haughty scoff. Thanatos’s heart jumps into his throat and he shoots up to his feet, smoothing down his tunic—trying to smooth down his tunic—as Megaera eyes the both of them.

“Greedy little brat,” she says of Zagreus. There’s a smile on her lips: not a kind one. Though that doesn’t keep Zag from letting out a quiet whimper. Then her gaze shifts to Thanatos, and she tosses her head. “Finish him off.”

But that’s too far. Thanatos flushes from his shoulders to the roots of his hair. “I don’t take orders from you, Megaera.”

Her confidence falters, and Thanatos sees her skin darken with a blush as well. “That’s not—” she starts, suddenly more awkward than Thanatos has ever seen her. “I didn’t mean it like that, Thanatos.”

“What else could you possibly mean?”

“Than,” Zagreus says quietly, coaxingly, “don’t worry about it, I don’t mind—”

“This isn’t about you, Zag,” Than snaps, and that’s nonsense—this is _all_ about Zagreus, somehow everything is about Zagreus in the end—but he wants Zag to shut up so he can just—just _think_ , or—

Megaera raises her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Do whatever you like, both of you,” she says, and that doesn’t help.

“I don’t need your permission, either,” Thanatos says, and he certainly doesn’t need her advice because look where that’s gotten him, where it’s gotten _all of them_. Zagreus looks between his two partners, anxious, still bound and still hard; Thanatos and Megaera stare at each other and Thanatos is humiliated and tense and the call of work has never been so tempting before except he doesn’t want to back down here.

In the end, it’s Megaera who breaks eye contact with Thanatos and turns abruptly to the wall. “I’m untying you, Zag,” she says, her voice hard and devoid of emotion.

“Ah…”

She unhooks the chain from the wall and lets his arms down. Then, taking a knife out of her belt, she says, “Come here.”

He obeys, the spreader bar making his gait clumsy. She digs the end of the knot out of place with the tip of the knife and then unties his wrists. As she works, he looks from her to Thanatos. Thanatos stands stock-still and doesn’t return his gaze. The air is thick enough to choke on. 

“Than,” Zagreus tries, hesitantly. “Meg—”

“We’re done here,” Megaera interrupts him. She takes her rope from his wrists and begins wrapping it with a circular motion around her forearm. She’s not meeting anyone’s eyes, either. Then she sighs and looks to the ceiling briefly. “Or at least, I am. You’re clearly more interested in spending time with Than right now.”

“I wouldn’t say that’s the case at all,” Zagreus protests. He rubs absently at his wrists as the impressions from the rope begin to fade away. “Meg, can we at least—”

“No.” Now she does look at him. “Whatever you’re going to say, no, we can’t. This was a bad idea, Zagreus.”

“OK. Well.” There’s injury in his face. He glances towards Thanatos and then away again. “You two were the ones making bets about it.”

“If that bothers you, I’ll give Than his diamond back.” Somehow, she fails to sound the least bit contrite. She takes something out of her pocket, a small key, and hands it to Zagreus. “For the spreader. Get yourself out of it, put it away. And then the two of you just… do whatever. I’m leaving. Don’t make a mess of my room.”

And before either of them can form a protest, she turns and strides out of her chambers, shutting the door more forcefully than necessary. Its sound rings in the silence for a moment. Zagreus stands, naked, holding the key to unlock his ankles like he’s not sure what to do with it.

“That didn’t quite go as I had hoped,” he said, the irony not covering his forlorn tone.

Thanatos sighs, aggrieved. “Get out of that, Zag,” he says, and pulls his leggings back into place. Then he waits, arms crossed and shoulders tense, as Zagreus liberates himself from the spreader bar. His ankles are red despite the padding inside the shackles, but it doesn’t seem to bother him; he shakes each leg out without a word, attaches the key to the bar, and puts it back in the trunk Megaera took it from. Only then does he glance Thanatos’s way.

“Did you… want to finish up?” he asks.

Thanatos scowls. “Really, Zag?” he snaps, but he regrets it immediately. Zagreus looks like he’s been kicked.

“Just thought I’d offer,” he says. “I was enjoying that, you know.” 

“I know.” Enjoying it without considering what it was like for anyone else, which is why it had fallen apart, which is why they’re standing awkwardly now in a bedroom that belongs to neither of them. Thanatos sighs. “Look, could you put your clothes back on?”

“…Right.”

Still crestfallen, Zagreus pulls his leggings and tunic back on. But as he fastens his belt into place, Thanatos’s stomach twists with the fear that he’ll leave—just slink out of the room without another word, too embarrassed or chastened or disappointed to… what? What is it that Thanatos wants from him instead? And can he really expect Zag to anticipate it if he can’t name it himself?

Zagreus doesn’t leave. 

“Than, could we… sit down for a minute?”

“…On Megaera’s bed?”

“I don’t really want to trudge back to my room right now,” he says, discomfort plain on his face. “I just want to talk, Than, I think I owe you an apology.” 

There’s a tug in the back of Thanatos’s mind, mortal deaths waiting on him and piling up in the meantime. And he almost gives in because as necessary as an apology probably is, it’s not like he wants to see Zagreus grovel. That isn’t going to help anything. Megaera had the right idea, removing herself from this whole scenario, but that means Thanatos can’t do the same without being petty.

So he drifts over and takes a seat on the bed. Zagreus comes to sit down next to him. Neither of them speak for a moment, Thanatos staring into the middle distance rather than look too invasively at any of Megaera’s possessions, Zagreus looking down at his lap and tearing off bits of his fingernails.

“This was a pretty stupid idea, wasn’t it?” he asks at last. Thanatos’s jaw tightens with another scowl, and though he doesn’t speak to affirm it, Zagreus continues, “It was supposed to be fun, you know, all three of us, I thought—I mean, you two have known each other longer than I’ve been alive, and you’ve always been so similar, so I thought maybe… that would work out.” 

Thanatos wrinkles his nose. “You thought you could set the two of us up via threesome?”

“Not like _that_ ,” Zagreus protests. “Not on any kind of permanent basis, just… for a little bit of fun.” 

“Zagreus, just because I’ve known Megaera a long time doesn’t mean I wanted her to see the two of us—” Thanatos’s face grows hot and he can’t finish his sentence. She _has_ seen it, now. And heard it. And the detachment she affected doesn’t mean she can just forget it ever happened, any more than he can.

Zagreus’s shoulders droop. “You could’ve said that, Than.” 

“Would that really have helped?” 

“Of course it would have.” Now Zagreus looks at him, and there’s a hint of baffled injury on his face. “I didn’t want to force you into that. Either of you. I could’ve just… dropped it, never brought it up again.”

“But you still would’ve wanted it.” 

Zagreus gives a faint laugh, except that Thanatos can’t hear any humor in it. It sounds pained. “There are a lot of things I want that I can’t have, Than. As much as I hate to admit it. I can’t chase endlessly after _all_ of them, and in this case I wouldn’t have, I don’t think. Not if it was something you didn’t want.” 

Thanatos falls silent. There is a stiff, uncomfortable something in his chest. “Megaera said this was the best way to dissuade you,” he says. “By showing you just how awkward it would be.” 

Even to his own ears, it sounds like an excuse. But Zagreus just gives another one of those laughs, his eyes averted. “She always has liked handing me the rope to hang myself with.”

His stomach twisting, Thanatos asks, “I suppose that makes me the rope in this case?”

“…Does it?” Zagreus’s brow furrows. “I guess it does. Gods, Than, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to be this way.”

No, he’d thought it would be great fun; it was Thanatos who’d come in dreading it, expecting it to be something to muscle through. If anyone would have been calling it off from the start, it should have been—

“Than,” Zagreus says, distress more obvious in his voice by the second, “you’re being quiet again, I can’t tell what you’re thinking.” 

Thanatos exhales noisily. “Just give me a minute to put my thoughts in order, would you?” 

“All right.” But he remains anxious. He looks at Thanatos from under bent brows. “Would it be OK if I…” 

He moves a little closer instead of finishing his sentence, and Thanatos waves vague permission. He expects Zagreus to lean on him, to put his head on his shoulder. Instead he lies on his side and puts his head on Thanatos’s lap. The childishness of it is startling, and the intimacy. But when Zagreus glances upwards, checking whether it’s OK, Thanatos doesn’t evict him. It’s nice, his warmth and his weight. Calming. Thanatos lifts one hand and combs through Zagreus’s hair. 

Finally, he sighs and speaks. 

“I didn’t want to do that,” he admits. Zagreus winces, but Thanatos continues. “I knew it was going to be awkward. Megaera and I are coworkers. And we’re… different things to you. I knew that already, and I didn’t need to see it made so explicit.”

Zagreus rolls onto his back and looks up at him. “I thought the contrast would be—”

“Zag.” Thanatos wants to finish his thought before Zagreus interjects. “I didn’t want to do that, but I did anyway, and that’s… my fault. I need to apologize, too. I’m sorry.” 

Surprise crosses Zagreus’s face. “I don’t think you need to apologize,” he says. “You didn’t know it would end up like this.”

“But I _did_ , Zagreus. That’s what I’m telling you. Megaera and I both, we knew this wouldn’t go well. And we wanted to use that against you.” 

He has to be blunt about it if he wants Zagreus to listen. And listen Zagreus does; his brow twitches a few times, pain struggling against optimism, and when optimism doesn’t quite manage to win out he turns inwards and wraps his arms around Thanatos’s torso with his face buried in his stomach. 

“I’m sorry,” Thanatos says again, and wraps one arm around Zagreus’s back. 

“You could have said something,” Zagreus says, his voice muffled. “Either of you.”

“Yes.”

“To _me_ , instead of… scheming off in a corner somewhere.” 

“Yes.” 

“Why didn’t you?” 

Thanatos sighs. “Well, I can’t speak for Megaera.” He can guess; he knows Megaera well, recognizes her faith in her own judgment even when she resents the decisions it makes for her. But Zagreus should talk about that with her on his own. “But as for myself… I could see how much you wanted it. And I wasn’t ready for there to be something between us that I had to say no to over and over. I didn’t want you to keep wanting something I wasn’t willing to give you.”

Zagreus looks up at him. “Than,” he says, his voice quiet but urgent, “you know I care about what _you_ want too, don’t you?”

“I know.” And Thanatos does believe that; Zagreus has demonstrated it time and again, even holding back sometimes when he can’t read Thanatos’s desires on him. But Thanatos doesn’t expect him to hold back. He expects Zag to be greedy, in the way his crusade to reach the surface had been greedy and utterly unstoppable. That’s how Zag is. Even if it’s foreign to Thanatos sometimes, he wants to see it.

He reaches down and combs through Zagreus’s hair with his fingertips, trying to put into words all his anxieties and frustrations. He speaks slowly. “The thing is, sometimes I’m not sure of what I want.”

It seems almost too simple of a complaint, but that’s the crux of it; that’s what leaves him feeling inadequate against Zag’s playful insinuations and the ease with which Megaera orders Zagreus into bed with her. There is always something pulling him towards the prince, but he doesn’t know how to put it into words, much less into action.

Zagreus looks up at him, a bemused concern on his face. “That’s fine, Than,” he says. “That’s not a problem. I can wait, or… give you space?”

Thanatos shakes his head. Space isn’t what he wants at those times, because—“I don’t want you to lose interest.”

Disbelief crosses Zag’s face then, and he sits up in a hurry and leans in, peering at Thanatos. “Lose—Than, you can’t honestly think I’d lose interest in you!” And as Thanatos stares, almost embarrassed to confirm it when Zagreus is so incredulous, Zag’s face softens. “I won’t, Than, I swear. I couldn’t.”

And it’s the bafflement in his voice that really makes it sink in. It’s naïve and not entirely thought through, but it’s so quintessentially _like_ Zagreus that Thanatos feels relief thaw in his chest and flood him. If Zagreus can’t imagine not wanting him anymore, then maybe Thanatos shouldn’t spend so much time imagining it, either.

Zagreus watches him. He leans forward slightly, once, and then once more. And then finally he goes for it, bringing their lips together, and Thanatos kisses back with longing burning bright within him. Tension unknots itself, and when the kiss ends, they rest their foreheads against each other, their breaths intermingling. 

“Than,” Zagreus murmurs, fingers ghosting down along the side of Thanatos’s face and along his jawbone, “I feel like all I’ve done today is hurt you, can I make it up to you somehow…?” 

And it’s tempting, far more tempting than it should be. Thanatos feels desire stir within him once more, and he knows Zagreus would answer it.

But he shakes his head; they are still, after all, in Megaera’s room. “Not right now, Zagreus. Maybe next time?” 

Zagreus’s eyes search his. “Can we say definitely next time?” he proposes.

Thanatos snorts in fond exasperation. “No,” he answers, because there are so many things that might make that unwise. “But let’s call it extremely likely.”


	2. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No more smut here--just a bit of cleanup.

But Thanatos does avoid Zagreus. For a little while. Avoids both of them, actually, prolonging his time on the surface as much as he can stand and staying out of the House. Until Zagreus decides to take matters into his own hands and starts carrying Mort around. He calls for Thanatos’s “help” by a quiet fountain in Elysium, of all things. 

Thanatos almost shifts away immediately. “You don’t need me here, Zagreus,” he says, exasperated. 

Zagreus shrugs, a bashful smile on his face. “I don’t. I just wanted to see you. Do you have a little time, by any chance?” 

Thanatos knows what _that_ means. “I can see you at home, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“Actually, I was thinking right now,” Zagreus says. 

He’s got that eagerness in his eyes again. And as a matter of fact, Thanatos _does_ have a little time at that exact moment. So.

*

Things are easier again between the two of them after that, the last of the tension chased away. So that just leaves the situation with Megaera. Which may be unfixable, all things considered.

Nevertheless, Thanatos begins stopping by the House again, just for a few hours between assignments. And eventually he spots Megaera climbing out of the Pool of Styx, back from another (deadly) encounter with Zag, and as he’s weighing whether he should go see her in the lounge she comes to his usual haunt overlooking the Styx instead.

“Thanatos,” she greets him. She stands stiffly by his side, looking into the Styx rather than meeting his eyes. She speaks brusquely. “I got quite a talking-to from Zagreus while you were avoiding us both.” 

Thanatos winces. “Embarrassing.”

“You have no idea.” 

He wants to protest that he does. Of course it’s embarrassing, to be lectured by Zagreus when Zagreus remains so stubbornly himself, shortsighted and emotional and endlessly optimistic. But then again, he doesn’t have the history with Zag that Megaera does. He’s never been a weapon that Lord Hades turned against him. It’s different. 

So instead he asks, gingerly, “Are the two of you still… OK?”

“He initiated the conversation fully prepared and _eager_ to forgive me for—” Here she gestures with one hand—“all of that, once he’d said his piece. So _he_ thinks we are, at least.”

“It doesn’t sound like you agree,” Thanatos says.

“I do not. I don’t have to take his forgiveness lying down, Thanatos.” Megaera looks at Thanatos sidelong, chin drawn up proudly. “If he thinks my approach was so terrible, then why should he want to forgive me? Why should he offer that to me?” 

“Because that’s who he is.”

“He’s an idiot.”

Thanatos grimaces. He is. He is, in so many endearing and _infuriating_ ways, but— “Megaera, if we want to be with him, we’ve got to stop thinking of him that way.”

Because it isn’t kind, or fair to him. Thanatos doesn’t want to just wait around wishing for Zagreus to be different when there are things that he treasures about him right now. And looking down on him feels so _distant_.

Megaera’s haughty expression falters. She turns her gaze back to the Styx, her jaw tight and her eyes hard. For almost a minute, she doesn’t speak.

Then: “Maybe you’re right.”

Thanatos looks at her and then away. She’s still staring at the churning waters of the Styx and she speaks quietly.

“What he and I had before… It was a disaster. It was never meant to be a relationship between equals, so I never let it become one. Even when he started falling for me. Even when I…” She grips the marble railing in front of her so tightly that her knuckles turn white. “I don’t want to recreate that. So if he’s just going to forgive me when I treat him like he’s still a moronic child, what good does that do either of us?”

“You can’t stop him from forgiving you,” Thanatos points out.

“Clearly not. Nor can I do anything to drive him away forever, it seems.” Frustration and bafflement mix in her expression for a moment before it hardens. “But I can reduce his access to me. I can just… do my job. Try to stop him at the edge of Tartarus. Refuse to talk to him at home.”

“I think that would hurt him.”

Megaera turns her glare on him. “Of course it would hurt him, Than. It would hurt him if he even knew I was considering it. So why bother to pretend that isn’t the kind of person I am?”

“Because Zagreus thinks you’re someone else. Someone better than that.”

“And he’s wrong.”

“Is he?” But Megaera’s going to dig her heels in, he can already tell. So he changes the subject: “What about me, then? Do you think he should forgive me, for my part in all of that?”

She waves a dismissive hand. “I bullied you into it. That’s what he lectured me about, you know.”

“And yet I still made my own decision, to go along with it rather than just communicating how I actually felt. No offense, Megaera, but I don’t consider you such a role model that I’d follow you blindly.” 

She snorts at that. “That’s for the best, clearly.”

“So should he forgive me?” Thanatos asks again, not willing to let the question go unanswered.

He can see in Megaera’s face that she knows what response he’s looking for, and knows that it’s not consistent with her own reasoning. “Your temporary lapse in judgment isn’t what you are to him,” she says at last, through gritted teeth.

“Neither is yours.”

“It’s entirely in line with how I’ve treated him ever since we were first introduced.”

“But it’s not what you want to be.”

“What I want matters less than how I act.”

“Then act in accordance with what you want,” Thanatos insists.

Megaera gives a breathless laugh of disbelief. “Do you really think it’s that easy?”

“Zagreus thinks so.”

“ _Obviously_ he does!” Megaera slaps her palms against the railing in an outburst that she tries to hide by gripping it once more. “Everything he does makes that abundantly clear.”

“So do you want to think that’s stupid?” Thanatos asks. “Or do you want to think he might be right?”

Her answer is clear on her face, but she resists it. “What I want has never mattered in this place.”

“It’s going to matter to him. It is never going to stop mattering to him. Isn’t that what you were telling me?” He looks seriously at her. “That’s part of what I like about him. Is that not how you feel, too?”

Megaera falls silent, her eyes shut and her forefingers pressed against the bridge of her nose. 

“For what it’s worth,” Thanatos says, “I think he’s right about you. At least, I think you’re better than your worst actions.”

“So does Nyx,” Megaera answers, and drops her hands to her sides. “I don’t think any of you understand what it’s like being a Fury.”

“If it’s that bad, maybe you should give yourself the occasional break. At least when you’re off-duty?”

“You’re pushing it, Than.”

He is. “Sorry—”

But Megaera looks his way with a bitter smile tugging at her lips. “I hardly even accept that kind of talk from the man I’m seeing.” 

There’s self-mockery in her smile, but something hesitantly vulnerable, too. Thanatos knows the feeling; Zagreus seems to be an expert at inducing it. “I find that he makes good points when I least expect it.”

“That’s been my experience, too. …Ugh, don’t tell him I said that.”

“He won’t hear it from me,” Thanatos promises. Not that Megaera said so, at least. Maybe he should tell Zag for his own sake, though.

Megaera looks to the Styx once more. “I’ve gotten distracted. I came here to apologize to you, Than. I shouldn’t have goaded you into… all of that. Or tried to boss you around.”

Thanatos shrugs. “Apology accepted,” he says. He’s hardly innocent enough to hold it against her.

Megaera grimaces, regardless. “Still don’t like that,” she mutters, half to herself. Then she takes something out of her pocket. “At least let me give this back to you.”

She’s holding a diamond, the one Thanatos had bet her. He winces and shakes his head. “I really don’t want that back. I shouldn’t have… _we_ shouldn’t have made that bet.”

“You’re right,” Megaera says. She looks down at the shimmering stone. “I’m throwing it in the Styx.”

“Be my guest.”

She tosses it into the Pool below, and they watch it sink below the rippling red waters. Then, in unspoken agreement, they stand and wait together for Zagreus’s return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did this particular fic really call for a brief Meg character study? Listen. When you're toushindai wallofillusion, EVERY fic calls for a Meg character study of some length or another. So far the game has left almost entirely unaddressed what _Meg_ might have done to lead to the breakdown in ZagMeg 1.0, which is frankly _inconceivable_ to me, but fortunately I myself know how to string words together. And will continue to do so until forcibly restrained.


End file.
